A Man Devoured
by Daughter of the Bomb
Summary: Also known as the story of how The Man in the Moon persuaded Pitch Black to join his Guardians.
1. Prologue

**Hey Loves! So I felt like there weren't enough Pitch!Redemption fics (or at least any that I could find...) out there so I decided to write my own! Also, there will be MAJOR SPOILERS (obviously) for the excellent film but also for the very brilliant books 'Guardians of Childhood' series written by William Joyce (WHICH YOU ALL SHOULD READ EVEN THOUGH IT'S A CHILDREN'S BOOK SERIES! It's very beautiful and quite exceptional and where I drew a great deal of inspiration from. Anyway, here we go! Hope you enjoy!**

**~DotB**

They're all gathered here with heckled nerves because the Man in the Moon wanted them here for some strange reason as they wait with trickling anticipation in the poles conservatory; waiting for an answer. Jack, being the newest Guardian, was frustrated with his own inexperience and anxious to see what the one who had chosen him, all of them, had to discuss with them.

"What did he say North?"

"Nothing, he just told me to gather everyone here for when it was time." Frost shook himself and sighed with discontent looking to the sky, chatting away to himself in the way that he was used to.

"How bad could it be right? How bad could it be…" Toothiana spun in tight circles to cater to all of tiny fairies, sending out arrangements and orders of collection in a hurried voice many of them had a tough time following as she quickly sent them away in case MiM suddenly decided to show. She didn't want to appear rude like that and as with all of them she trained her eyes to the nighttime sky, busying with looking at the stars and hunting for constellations to make sure that they were all in their proper place, as if she could correct them if they weren't.

Even Sandy was on edge, unable to properly shape any of the sun lightened dust he was known for with his jittery hands, he couldn't concentrate long enough either; his thoughts ran everywhere as he sipped from his cup of eggnog an atrocious amount of times as he soon picked up his seventh dosage. Even the wise Bunnymund was tapping his foot in rapid succession as if he suddenly believed he could communicate morse code all the way from the pole and back to his warren. North soon started his pacing across the floor with his hands behind his back so as to stop himself from attempting to make new toys out of habit but blindly with his eyes upward, and that just wouldn't make do for anything he'd be pulling off this year so he quit while he was ahead.

Then to the sights of their sore eyes as the moon was in perfect position it gave off it's ringing glow of the tell tale sign. They smiled and fidgeted trying not to look as half crazed and nervous as they were, welcoming and open as all warriors should be and quick to business as they cleared space for the moon beams.

"Is he…?"

"No, he can't be."

"I think he is."

Carefully the trails of softened light made their way to the panel with their emblem and pushed gently down, letting the rugged crystal reveal itself to it's shattered glimmer along the walls of the conservatory and the faces of their friends.

"…He's choosing a new Guardian..."

"But-…"

The newly chosen Guardian slowly grew as it was illuminated for all eyes to see who it was to be; it was horribly ironic for the iconic figure to be illuminated in the moonlight, but there was no denying who it was.

"Oh hell no."


	2. Chapter One

"_**GET OUT!"**_ It comes out as a desperate scream against the wind, tortured and ripped to slivers in pieces, blowing towards them in droves; causing all of the Guardians to motion back, to try and get away from the former shadow who speaks so raw and rigid in every breath that it hurts them as well. It's ugly and this is a brutality, the cruelest of reminders in that this could have been _any of them_ by way of example; this deception of the creature who came so close he could almost touch it, taste it, and feel the realness of it all before his dreams were burned to crisp ashes before his golden eyes.

He's throwing things at them, the rocks of the earth that frame his abode; he misses every time but to be honest they doubt that he's trying any more, he has become something so miserable in his own self and simple being of existence that there is not a single piece inside of him that cares what happens to himself let alone others. It's Toothiana who flies out first, knowing that she'll be able to fly away in time when the next rock is undoubtedly thrown.

To be honest none of the Guardians had truly regretted any of their actions up until this point, especially when it had come down to the Nightmare King, in their eyes he had done more than enough to deserve it, but by now they were feeling more than guilt.

"_Pitch, please!"_ She's begging and she knows it and she isn't proud of it either, but some things can't be helped and at this rate they won't be moving past anything, so they might as well _try_.

"'_**Please**_**' **_**what **_**pray tell? Have you not had enough; come back for more, precious Guardians? Then **_**starve**_** for I have nothing left to give and **_**get out**_**; if there ever was a second where one of you felt the sickness of sadness then **_**sympathize**_** and **_**leave me be!**_**"** There's another crash as Tooth swoops out of the way, barely in enough time as it smashes against the cavern wall. They're getting nowhere and the hollowed and infamous King still refuses to reveal himself yet, covered even now in his own hiding place of shadows; the rocks come from different angles and his voice changes the sides from where it came each time he speaks, _if_ he chooses to speak.

But now North steps forward with arms held wide and heart open to the man who lives only in the night, almost welcoming but as always he speaks with sincerity.

"Pitch! Listen to us for only a moment _please_-."

"_**No**_**, no more, leave, **_**leave now**_**!" **The sound of his voice is much closer now and louder as well, rage filled and hate fueled they know how close he really is; knowing even more silently that these shadows cannot hide the Nightmare man for long.

Its Jack then who more whispers it than says it in the background of it all, murmured with the taste of desperate longing.

"But He wants you to be a Guardian…" Suddenly there is the man molded by darkness before him, pointed teeth and curled nose and grey skin and eclipsed eyes and there he is, remaining enraged and ragged before them. Pitch's words drip then like his tongue is prickled in poison falling from cuts in his mouth and from his chipped lips.

"**What?"** The other current Guardians have eyes opened in surprise and jaws slackened in disbelief at Frost's actions, stunned that he would even dare to mention the very thing that they were working to very cautiously build up to. They understand the delicacy that the Nightmare King holds in this situation perhaps more so than Jack due to their age. To Jack, the Guardians have always been around; yet to Sanderson, Bunnymund, North, and Toothiana they know that that is not necessarily true, they all remember very well what it was like when only Pitch's darkness reigned supreme, in the days when they were chosen to fight against him and alongside The Man in the Moon.

He looks then to the others gathered around him, checking with them if they have reason to objectify to the boy's statement, but upon finding none he questions it.

"**What kind of diseased joke is He using to toy with me now?" **It is only North who finds the strength to answer him and give him the select respect to continue to do so.

"He has chosen you, Pitch Black, to become a Guardian."

"**No he hasn't."** There is disgust twisted to hold Pitch's denial in place to combat North's strong certainty.

"He has though; He gathered us together, and He chose you."

"**But He would never choose me…" **

"…Perhaps something has changed in Him, and he decided that now was your time…"

"**Well then I refuse it." **

"You can't just refuse to becoming a Guardian-."

"**Ah but I do. I wouldn't join your reindeer games North, so go home and act as though nothing has changed, carry on with your ridiculous antics for I won't have any of it; consider this transaction over and count it as a victory against my unredeemable forces. Give Him whatever he needs to hear in order for him to understand this: I refuse to become a part of his elaborate farce." **Bunnymund is quick to join North's right flank.

"Look, mate, you can't just-."

"**But I CAN. Do you not understand or do you just decide not to listen? I am not one of your simple-minded lackeys or spastic allies; I am your enemy and I always have been. Do you think that you're the only ones; do you think others haven't come before you? Because believe me they have. And I'll let you in on a little secret; every single one of them has come and gone and faded away but I have always been here and I always will be, circumstances non withstanding, even the non believers cannot smother the fear that is my plight for I will always endure. Will you?" **It wasn't anything any one of them could truly answer without a waver of doubt in their mind, which seemed to be exactly what the King had wanted as he humorlessly smirked at the seeds he had planted in their heads; for he knew those emotions all too well.

"**Go back to your Palaces and Warrens and Islands and Lakes and Factories; continue on with your little plans to spread joy and happiness and wonder and dreams and fun, and enjoy it for who knows how long it will last." **Jack walks towards him, borderline seething at the Nightmare man at the presumptuous accusations; he knows that he is expendable, but the rest of them aren't, not the big four especially.

"The children will always need us and we will always be there for them no matter what you say, we will always be around no matter how hard you may try or how close you may come to extinguishing us; there will always be children who believe in us." Pitch's poor excuse of a smile is gone then and replaced with something a kin to reality; hardened and tired of pathetic wishes that never came true and all of the prayers that went unanswered.

"'**The children who will always believe in you'? That's funny. I distinctly remember thinking the same damned thing, and look what happened Jack. Look at how wrong I turned out to be; if nothing gold can stay then I certainly doubt there's any more room for the rest of you."** There was the certainty of the way he said it that made it feel as though he was reading off proven facts, and in many ways he was; Jack had heard of the Dark Ages and how Pitch had ruled it for thousands upon thousands of years and now he had fallen down to this, from being believed in by the hundreds and now only believed by only the most paranoid children who were easy game on his part.

Oddly though Tooth flew towards him, cautiously now but only careful so on the shades part, familiar with his ways for she was one of the oldest besides Sanderson of course; to whom Pitch was a sort of kindred spirit. Yet the little sanded man had elected to stay behind them all, not out of fear but out of old timed resentment and the quiet belief that perhaps The Man in the Moon might have been wrong and made a mistake just this once; Pitch would never be Guardian material even if he had wanted to be, he held crime records that were frowned upon even the most hardened criminal.

"Pitch, I understand that you don't want this for all the reasons that you have, but if you could just come to the surface and talk to MiM to maybe clarify some things; I think it would be for the best." At this the shadow scoffed.

"**What; so he can take away my hold and choose another one for my place or begin something else equally irrational?"** She came closer with her small hands wrapped around one another in nerves, not in fear of him but out of the fear of how her proposition would work out and if it could.

"If you could just talk to him the way you two used to, something good could come out of it; you'll never get back the power you once had but maybe we could come to a truce after all, so that what happened to you never happens to anyone else ever again…"

"**Don't think for one millisecond that I don't remember your distinct right hook Miss Tooth and your involvement in my imprisonment."** He turned away then to walk a few paces until he turned back to them to add another comment.

"**Besides, it was his decision to stop talking to me ages ago why would he just up and change it now, what could I possibly have that he might want now?"** Jack found surprise in this more than the others, unable to control his outrage and jealousy.

"Wait, how often did he used to talk to you anyway?" Pitch thrived in the envy and almost danced with it with his chest proudly puffed forward, walking to half circle around them, taunting in his voice.

"**Oh believe me it was often, twice a day easily."** They all then let out their own gasps of disbelief and astonishment and tried to come to a sort of reasoning as to why The Man in the Moon would have any sort of reason to talk to, and possibly even be affiliated with, someone like Pitch.

"What in the name of Easter Island did you two even talk about anyway?" The shade turned thoughtful then, slightly pleased at the effect his words had on them. It was a fine reminder that he was and always will be a bit special and unique in many cases regarding MiM; even though now the man only treated him with indifference.

"**Oh all sorts of subjects, some days certain conversations would last longer, one lasted a year itself; it had something to do with snow flakes of all things, which then spiraled into a debate on politics of course and then moral ambiguities and flower petals and then moon rotations and how it effects wave lengths, etcetera. But on some days we would only speak in greetings and in goodbyes and even goodnights; but often we'd sit in silence together to keep one another company or like in the dawn when I would walk with him as the sun rose on the lakes and mountains and all around until other work had to be done. Then one day he just stopped; coincidentally this was around the time that he started to create you spirits of winter, spring, fall, and summer. I guess he just didn't have time for me anymore…" **In his words echoed the pangs of sadness at the reminder of his loss awoke the longing he had for a friend to fight away his loneliness on those terrible nights when all he had was himself. It was strange for them to be witnessing the confession of weakness from a man like Pitch, something not to be thrown away but remembered; but they knew that the only real reason why Pitch would say something like that now would be because he had nothing else to loose and had forgotten his normal formalities. Toothiana pressed on, curious still for answers despite the light kindness in her voice.

"Did you try to talk to him?"

"**Yes. Many times. But he never answered me. And then came the war of course, but you all know how that ended." **With that North gave a small snort.

"Which one?" A gust air left the shadow's lungs and he gave away a clip of a smile at the former thief, appreciative of the darkness of his humor.

"**My thoughts exactly."** With that he dove down into the blackness of his shaded cell of the underground swimming in it and twisting spirals as he then reappeared on a ledge opposite, and to their dismay at the change he simply stretched as an explanation of the sudden move. He sat and thought for a bit, silent without a smile on his lips nor a furrow on his brow, calculating pros and cons until his half golden eyes found their purchase on them again; looking as though he had tasted something sour and was unpleased with whatever results he had come to.

"**Perhaps…"** He shook his head to forget his train of thought until he was satisfied enough that it was gone before dipping down until he returned to their level, but as always he remained taller than most of them and lowered his eyes towards them. When he spoke it wasn't with malice or torment but out of something more tame and honest; not out of his usual mocking but out of a wrinkled forehead of curiosity.

"**Does he never talk to any of you?" **They looked around at one another until slowly they gave their own answers.

"The last time was when he chose Jack for Guardian, and now for you…"

"All he did was tell me my name."

"He asked me about my fairies, to check up on them."

"He asked to borrow one of my time machines not too long ago and told me how sorry he was about Easter... When he returned it I wasn't there and he left a note sayin 'thanks'." Jack turned then to the furry Pooka as he wordlessly mouthed with exclamation: '_YOU HAVE A TIME MACHINE?!'. _Bunnymund waved him off and centered his sights again on Pitch, who seemed both confused and cautious as he, but looked towards Sanderson for some form of communication and was only rewarded with a dejected shrug and dispirited eyes. Pitch then walked a few paces away and subconsciously or after a long lost habit; looked to where the sky and the stars and the moon would be as he pondered. He murmured with reservation and prying eyes at the ceiling of his chamber, deducing his former friend without ease in his head.

"_**What are you up to old friend?" **_He bit his tongue and upon the pressure of his inked blood he sighed and cast his eyes on the stone floor of his desecrated kingdom of lightlessness, mulling over the thought that kept pestering him. His mouth found the words he would most likely wish that he'd never said, but he spoke them anyway.

"**Perhaps… it is time we talked…" **


	3. Chapter Two

**Hey loves! Thank you so much for all the support you have given me thus far, with reviews and favorites it's all very kind of you, glad to hear that you're enjoying it! Anyway, this fic is beginning to look like a five chapter deal complete with epilogue for those of you wondering, and even then there might be a sequel or some other version of a companion piece following somewhat in the same universe and vein as this one. Also: go check out some of Rufftoon on Tumblr and on DeviantART as well as Phobs! They have some great Pitch Black pieces and comics that I consider to be cannon which I may reference on and off (plus they're just awesome, very very awesome and two great artists). Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter, enjoy!**

**~DotB**

It's another reminder in the way that they all know the way out of the tunnels except for Pitch Black; the fact reprimands itself because while they all came here of their own accord to fetch him, he himself was dragged here with his nails scrapped bloody on the ground to the noise to his own protesting screams. In the end it's those trails themselves that lead them up to the surface and to the hole they unburied and dug up, and once they reach the surface it's to the Nightmare King's own disgust that the sun is in noon and at it's peak. He's gone from them before they can even manage to blink and they panic; knowing he's abandoned them and has escaped to cause hell yet again for them. Bunnymund is already ranting ignoring Tooth's spite.

"I knew we should've kept an eye on him! We can't trust him look at all the times he's screwed us over; remember what happened last time? He almost won and we almost fell into the Dark Ages all over again. You know what I think-?"

"Aster stop it he's had it bad enough already without you-!"

"-I think he's been planning along all this time and he finally figured out how to trick us, and that was him telling us to make him a Guardian so he can get all his old powers back and try to take over again; I'd bet my left foot on it! There's no way MiM would choose him, he hates kids!" Meanwhile Sanderson began pulling on the Pooka's ear in a frenzied state wherein once he had their attention he pointed towards a group of nearby trees where Pitch was watching; an unrivaled poker face perfectly intact from where he stood unfazed as Bunnymund's eyes widened as he attempted to gulp his words, turning pale even with his grey coat in the sun's rays. Yet he wouldn't back down at the meaning of what he'd said, he'd meant every word and he wasn't one to apologize if he didn't think he had to.

"**I don't 'hate' kids-."**

"Could've fooled me you rat."

"**I do what I do for their own good." **

"'For their own good' now that's a laugher if I ever heard one you bloody-."

"**Have you never questioned fear?"**

"'Questioned fear' what the egg is that supposed to mean you whacker?"

"**Why do you fear greyhounds, rabbit?"** At this E. Aster merely shook his head and wrinkled his nose and thumped his foot at the turns this was taking, not wanting to listen and refusing to answer the question.

"**Because of their record of killing animals such as yourself; such in the same way that one would fear a snake; because it would do you serious harm. Fear protects. And it keeps you alive; because if you didn't fear a snake it would just as easily kill you as you would go to hold it."** The rabbit found anger in this though and objected.

"'Course you would because that's just common sense."

"**And you get that common sense by trial and error, from bad mistakes and poor judgments is where it flourishes; if you jump from a high tree and scrape your knee you learn not to do it again and instead climb down."**

"But the nightmares-!"

"**Are necessary. Brutal sometimes but true and a reflection of difficulties ahead; because life isn't just chocolate painted eggs and toys under a tree or a quarter under a pillow and sometimes there are no snow days and sometimes there are no sweet dreams. Sometimes all you have is harsh, cold reality. And it's my job and duty to remind them of that and prepare them for it. Life is full of disappointments, one must keep going and endure. Because sometimes that's just how life is." **

"And what? And then you just die, is that how you see it?"

"**That's only if you're lucky." **Just as Aster was about to argue his own view his eyes dipped just the slightest at the sudden realization that Pitch's body wasn't completely there. He was an unjustified wisp of ashen smoke where only the top half of his body from his torso and up as well as his arms were defined; everything else simply seemed to drift in pulls of a wind that wasn't there in a charcoal fog where deepened cracks of pure nothingness riddled his body, the battle scars of a man non believed. In the underground it had been harder to spot what had become so obviously and grotesquely apparent now, the way the lack of faith had eaten away at him in his prison cell of solitude; another grim reminder as they averted their eyes, finding the ground more interesting as he looked down at himself for the first time, surveying the damage with his usual calm and nonchalant way, yet to be honest he was used to the cost of war by now after being through so much and was tactile to it when he spoke.

"**I can't step into the light in my state, I'll simply fade back into the ground again; if one of you would give me the kindness to borrow their shadow for the moment then we would be able to continue on."** Jack looked to him again, gone was any pity as he lightly taunted.

"And if we don't?"

"**Then we'll have to wait for night. And as I sincerely doubt that any of you enjoy my company I suggest we take whatever route we need to get this whole thing over and done with. Agreed?" **Toothina flew closer as the others looked around at one another to see if anyone was willing to volunteer.

"What makes you think that we don't enjoy your company?" His forehead wrinkled in doubt at the proposition as his eyes became half lidded in obvious distrust of even the notion.

"**Darling, no one enjoys my company." **From where he stood Jack mumbled.

"At least that's one thing we can both agree on." Pitch didn't even bother to glare at the boy as he merely settled his sights on him until North stepped forward and stole away his attention on the wintered spirit.

"**Ah, Nicholas St. North; would you be willing to oh-so-kindly volunteer your shadow for me?"** The smile that etched itself on the shades face stepped the boundary of terrifying as the sickeningly sharp, jagged and pointed teeth glinted and oozed a kidney rupturing kindness that was clearly falsified.

"Just for now Black, no tricky business hear?" The darkened man removed his smile and instead put up the tendrils of his hands in mock surrender at the Russian as he trudged forward.

"**You have my finest promise; I swear upon all my murkiness I shall not harm a hair on your head nor on your beard."**

"Nor shall you attempt to posses me. Don't think I forgot about what you did to the Djinni, cretin." North narrowed his eyes as his hand unknowingly grabbed for the hilt of one of his swords at the memory.

"**Nor shall I attempt to posses you, I wouldn't dream of it. You won't even know that I'm there."** Beyond his glare North took the final step into the shade under the tree where for the moment Pitch currently resided but now he filtered to the ground; tying himself down and bending and twisting to the other man's feet to secure his new location. As North wandered away from the trees they couldn't help but look down at the refreshed slender frame that trailed after the former thief; disturbed by the strangeness of how it looked compiled together.

They moved on foot then for a good while until they got to the sleigh that was hidden in the woods where they last left it, climbing aboard in relative silence and making sure there was enough elbow room for one another.

"Where are we headed North?" Asked Tooth pleasantly from her perch between Jack and Aster behind Sanderson.

"The Himalayas; it should be easier to reach him there with the tall mountains so close to the sky... But first, the pole. We need supplies." He was careful, of course, not to mention that the Himalayas was also where the Lunar Lamadary was built; The Man in the Moon's temple where his monks worshipped him, a place North knew from when he was younger and only had a peppered beard instead of the snow white he currently had. He didn't want to endanger them although he knew very well that they could protect themselves from experience, they had been extremely kind to him and his friends when he had stayed there.

"You better have boots in my size that are plenty flexible 'cuz there is no way I'm going there bare foot." He hadn't even thought about that but he wasn't about to let on; he could always make some, in fact, that was always half the fun.

When they arrived North landed his sleigh and left it for the Yetis to take care of since the elves weren't exactly the responsible task force he wished they could be; he kept them around for eggnog and cookies and other little things but also because he knew the harshness of the climate he lived at and he knew that they didn't quite have anywhere else to go. He goes to his supply room first and gathers many of the things he had packed on his first trip with Ombric in an infinity bag, calling out orders for the elves to find the others proper coats that would fit them and help brace themselves for the harsh altitude and weather. They leave him to his own devices as the elves escort them to the coatroom, and it's not until he's completely alone when he feels a tug at his feet when Pitch rises to meet him.

"**Snow has high reflective properties."**

"I know."

"**There is an awful lot of snow up in the Himalayas."**

"I know this as well."

"**It's going to weaken me."**

"Yes."

"**You need me North, the Man in the Moon and I need to talk and I can't do that if the light destroys me completely which it will if I don't have some form of protection."**

"Hm." He inched in closer on the working man, his voiced lowered and eyes narrowed as he watched him.

"**Where is it?"** The big man turned to look at him, pausing in his place.

"I don't think you deserve such trust." He stepped back now as he crossed his arms, tipping his head back as a means of reminding the shade of who exactly he was talking to with a peppered brow raised in question.

"**I could die without it, it's common sense that I would wear it in my state." **North simply continued staring right through him and seemed to accept that possibility. Exasperated, Pitch tried again to reason with the man.

"**Even with it I'm easily defeated, even if I tried Aster would tackle me to the ground, Tooth would send her fairies on me, Sanderson would tie me up in his sand, and Jack would encase me in ice. I have nothing to gain with an escape attempt." **North met him evenly, unmoved.

"Never stopped you in the past."

"**When at war, yes, but we're neutral now more or less."** Suddenly the face of the shade was wiped clean as North recognized one of the looks that he had seen earlier in the cave.

"**Besides, if The Man in the Moon seems to think…"** Pitch stopped and shook his head, regaining his thoughts as he reorganized them in a way that would make him satisfied with what he was about to say; which he wasn't in the least, but there was the pressing need he was having to tell someone. And beside their many fights and battles and the simplicity that would never agree morally, the shadow still remembered the time when North had given him a second chance; and asked him if he would join them as a Guardian, which he profusely denied, a decision that sent him years and till this day thinking upon that choice.

But North knew that look, he had seen it sometimes on Christmas; while the children were busy playing with their new gifts parents who were going through tough times would suddenly look at each other with a desire to try again, hopeful to stay together and wanting to. North saw this look in Pitches eyes and uncrossed his arms, sighing with understanding at Black's predicament; still he found the words he spoke revealing the disbelief and lit of awe he felt at even the idea that he confessed.

"You want to change." Unknowingly the Nightmare King visibly relaxed, tense shoulders slackened but his brow still furrowed that the Russian was able to figure it out before he was able to say it; so quickly he began to cover it up with a not completely lie slicked tongue.

"**It's something I've been considering as of late."** North nodded at that, quietly afraid to add _"That is how change always starts" _not wanting to scare the shadow away from the idea by looking too enthusiastic about it, deciding then that he would try not to be as hard as he usually was on the man and trying to get the others to back off. Even though it was his own idea he still found it to be incredibly gullible of him, but he didn't know how to encourage the shade anymore than that, so he too would try.

"I'll keep shut, I won't mention a word of this to anyone." Black carefully sighed with relief at that and nodded in acknowledgement of the Russian's kindness.

"**And for that you have my thanks." **North shrugged at that and slapped a hand at the shadows back in a showman's way of a friendly gesture, something he only realized shortly after that it was something Pitch was likely to be unfamiliar with.

"Come, let's get you your armor."


	4. Chapter Three

**Hey everyone, just wanted to say thank you all so much for the amazing comments and the twenty-eight favorites! I'm curious about what you'll think about his armor, since I wrote the description for it in a cafe without wifi so I added somethings to his semi traditional design. Anyway, that's all, see ya!**

**~DotB**

"_No no no no no no no no_. He is not coming with us wearing _that thing_."

"What is wrong Bunny; he look good, no?" Pitch spun a bit to show off his ancient but dusted lead amour. The chest plate with its intricate double swirls which thickly curved from under his rib cage up to his collar bone, and then the curling metal hoops golden as the sun aflame wrapped tightly around his torso and the coupled back where cruel pointed spines ruptured and grew. Elegantly carved were the shoulder pieces, sprouting horned screaming demons so delicately made you could see the horror in their eyes as the flames of the background succeeded them; and down to the arms was the same curled metal that was used on his torso that held taunt down to his wrist where the hand piece was securely fashioned and embroidered with encircling blackened flames. Under it was a jacket made heavy by the same iron that covered the rest of him which had been stretched to hold onto every angle along it's edges, and where the metal was touching a terrible creature had been skinned to be fastened as the rest of the elongated coat. In the winds the jacket fanned out to expose the long clasped boots wrapped so tightly to his form with clasps up to his knees, where it stopped and the same screaming demons on his shoulder blades where imprisoned. Yet round his neck all asunder hung the crescent sliver of rioted gold; making him a monster of black coupled only with the two after shots of the aged yellow. He was a thing to be feared once more.

Bunnymund didn't answer North's question of course and instead stomped over to the big man and pulled him closer till they were almost nose to nose.

"The last time he was wearing that I distinctly remember fighting against his army in the Earth's core, now explain to me why on Earth is he dressed up in that old thing again?" North opened his arms to go through every detail and pulled back.

"He needs it so that he doesn't fade away once we reach the Himalayas." The Pooka continued to stare, completely unamused with the human. North then added:

"The snow is reflective." Nothing.

"So it's really bright." Not even a little bit.

"…There's a lot of snow in the Himalayas?" The Pooka's nostrils flared at that as he placed his hands on his hips and practically yelled at him:

"Do you think I don't know that? If it's so bright then grab him some damned sunglasses or something, I don't care. You don't dress up a Veteran in their old amour and then expect everything to be fine; if you don't recall he kidnapped children as prisoners, turned an entire village into figurines, tried to steal the entirety of Ombric's library so that he could throw the entire world back into darkness, again, and tried to kill us! So why the hell would you think it was a good idea to let him go out in _that_?"

"**If it's of any consolation he didn't let me have my sword…"**

"Oh put a carrot in it you sociopath!"

"**I'm not a sociopath."** Aster stopped momentarily in his rant to swerve back and stare at the shade, a cocktail of confusion and anger, something he'd been having a lot of lately now that he thought about it, displayed itself on his face while he stared; unknowingly encouraging Pitch to go on.

"**I may be antisocial and have been known to have erratic behavior but I do, and you may find this surprising, a conscience."** At that the shadow looked around at the outside landscape where they'd met up with them by North's sleigh, lightly murmuring in words he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to hear.

"**I feel things…"** North began walking forward to stop Bunnymund from acting out anything too horrible or to keep him from being too hard on the shadow. Yet there was still a moment of pause as Aster's ears turned directly towards Pitch, focusing in on him but there was still enough hardened hatred in his voice when he whispered back.

"I've got my eye on you, ya baby snatchin' _dingo_." And as he hops onto the back of the sleigh the rest of them, with their odd and ended thick coats, are soon to follow.

* * *

Pitch can't walk through the temple doors; it's a little bit sad, actually.

It's not that they can't just sneak him through, which they considered to be the only option of getting him in considering the monks _definitely_ haven't forgotten the part he played in the many wars and the sieges of the cosmos; it's just that he can't even get within ten feet before he begins to fade even more so than he already has. Even with his old armor, he's too weak and they're, not that they'd ever really admit it, scared that if they get any closer it will be too much for him and he'll dissipate and dissolve completely. The objection of this operation was to get him to talk to MiM so The Man in the Moon could possibly talk some sense into him, not to kill him.

"**I'll stay out here while the rest of you can go inside and warm up."** He knows that most of them, with the exception of North and Jack of course, are close to freezing as their teeth rattle in their skulls.

"If you think for one second that-!" North is quick to have his hand on the furred Pooka's shoulder.

"Bunny calm down, I will keep watch with him and keep an eye out for the Moon." He reasons when unexpectedly Jack comes over from the side.

"I will too," North raises a brow as the young wintered kindred continued to clarify, "to keep you company." But of course underneath that statement is an unspoken "_And to help if he tries anything"_.

Once Bunnymund decides that that's good enough for him he gives a swift nod before all but running towards the Lamadary with a chattering Sanderson while Toothiana gave them a small wave good bye and told them that she's grab them all something hot to drink later before she, too, was gone.

They settled then, leaning against the side of the sleigh, eyes trained to the stars, which would appear in a few hours and the accompanying moon.

"**So much for the rabbit's **_**'keeping an eye on me'**_**." **North laughed heartedly at the irony and a smile broke along the shades mouth as he too let out a small laugh.

"When it gets too cold he's always the first to run." Pitch turned just slightly to look at the big man so that he could see his dagger glint of a smile, showing his appreciation. Then his eyes fell upon the temple and his brow cracked in a curious notion.

"**Is it true that the tower is actually-?"**

"A space ship? Uh huh. I piloted it once." Confusion twisted his expression then as he paused to ponder it, looking towards the ground.

"**Wha-…?"** He just ended up shaking his head as a slender grey hand grabbed his temples he spoke into them.

"**He would do that."** To that the Russian let out a belly shaking laugh and leaned even farther back against his sleigh that supported him.

Neither of them seemed to notice the slight wavers of distress that Jack was sending off, he felt as if he was in some sort of peril, he'd never seen someone openly getting along with Pitch; were they supposed to be nice to him? Or had the Nightmare King somehow convinced North to join him on some evil quest or 'possessed' him like Frost had heard them debating about earlier. He found something hugely alarming in Black's smile, reminding him all too much of the time when he thought that the Guardians had all turned their back on him and Pitch had come to 'help' him by pulling over to his side of the battlefield; the way he had held Baby Tooth a little too tightly as her eyes watered and she squirmed for freedom had left something more than an impression on him.

He hadn't realized that he had been watching Pitch from his sidelined view, not until, of course, Pitch was looking right back at him; and in those explosive golden eyes of the shadow Jack saw a sea of understanding and realization wash over the shade as he gave a polite smile and brief nod. Frost didn't know what to feel about that exactly, and it bothered him; what kind of loop was The Man in the Moon throwing them through? He didn't really want to question the Man's decision because it hurt him remembering that it was the Man's choice to choose him to become a Guardian, and he didn't want to insult him. But Pitch, really? Jack knew that he had never been an exact and perfect option for the fifth Guardian position, but still, he never killed anyone. The only thing that made him feel even the slightest bit remotely okay with this was the way Pitch had talked to him out there in the snow when he had been alone with him. The way he said words like _'I know what it feels like' _and _'Together'_ and _'Family'_ and how hurt he looked bringing up a past like that; maybe all Black needed was a 'Family', or at least someone who he could be 'Together' with, it sounded like he used to have something like that with The Man, but something bad had happened, something rotten.

North had finally stilled then when he realized Pitch had taken to looking at Jack, so he looked to Jack himself gave him a piece of his smile; half of Black's brow raised in a question which he was soon to ask.

"**Jack, how old are you?"** Frost shrugged and looked away, out towards the frozen landscape, busying his eyes with the snow.

"Three hundred and something," his blue eyes flit back, "why?" North gave a slow whistle as a stunned expression raised itself on his face. Black seemed slightly troubled by his answer though as his brow only furrowed.

"**That is phenomenally young to be a Guardian."** North looked to Black in a side glance and was soon to add:

"Katherine was younger when she joined." Black met his gaze.

"**Still…"** He looked back to Jack, his expression now thoughtful as it had been in the cavern, while he considered the boy.

"**Jack, do you have any questions since you're somewhat new?"** Jack found something irksome by Black's, well, if it was coming from anyone else he would have called it 'kindness', but that was impossible for the shade. All he did was use and manipulate. But Frost couldn't see how manipulation could come from this; North is right next to him if things need to get straightened out.

"How do you all know each other?" Pitch bit his lip at that as his brows fell down low towards his eyes, displeased at the memories of his actions; North's eyes widened at it.

"**The first time I met North I tried to kill him-."**

"Tried?"

"**I succeeded?"**

"Twice."

"_**Oh**_**."** Black seemed to step back a moment to consider the information as he began to reprocess and remember it, nodding his head in affirmation with his eyes narrowed at himself before continuing.

"**Bunnymund and I met after North and Ombric recruited him in the battle at the core of the Earth."** He settled back for a moment, pulling forth another unpleasant memory of his darkened history.

"**And I think I killed his parents…?"** North was fast to correct him.

"Really? He told me you killed the entire Pookan civilization."

"**No, you're right, I tend to get those two confused. My apologies."** He looked down at himself, his brow crumpled in his own tempered self loathing.

"**Although I suppose it's him I truly owe my apologies to…"** At that North slapped on the back and gave him a shrug.

"You'll get there eventually, once he is no longer mad." To that Pitch only murmured half to himself half to anyone who would listen.

"**Which I sincerely doubt will ever happen."** Before North could say anything he cut him off and continued.

"**Toothiana I met when I formed a collaboration with the Monkey King, known as the man who had both of her parents killed and who wanted her dead as well… To be honest though I never really liked him, too pathetic and winy and too many fleas for my taste. Although that coupled with the fact that he left a child orphaned, and because a child should never be forced to fend for themselves in such a dangerous world as this; he always left a poor impression on me. Children need parents, or at the very least a guardian and I mean what was the man thinking in the first place? Heartless bastard."** Jack couldn't refuse the existence of the Russian's smirk that graced the happy canvas of his expression, painted in pinks and reds in the tundra's chill. Black noticed it immediately of course and demanded what it was about.

"I agree with you. Children do need Guardians."

"**You interpreted that completely wrong, I didn't mean-."** North kept his smile painted despite the shades insistence.

"Of course you did not, I never say you did. Froid might disagree though." At the former thief's words Black could only battle it with a heavy glare as he pointedly talked on.

"**A**_**nyway**_**. As for Sanderson Mansnoozie I've known for countless centuries when I first damaged his shooting star of a ship to steal his sand, forcing him to crash land. That's about it I believe... I'm a terrible terrible person who ruins and destroys everyone's lives. The end." **The shade seemed to shrug it off not too lightly though.

"…Then why are you here?" Jack kept all his attention rapt on the shadow, looking for any details or signals that would catch him off guard; Black only looked to the skybefore he answered with lips tight.

"**Concern."** But before any of them could add another comment Toothiana called out to them as she flew quickly over with a smile on her face and a small circular tray decorated like the moon on which three cups where situated.

"I have eggnog for North, cocoa for Jack, and tea for Pitch." She handed them over in their quaint order, once finished her eyes lingered on Black's with a wide yet unnerving smile, not so quietly adding:

"It's unsweeted by the way. Oh! And I brought you some floss, just in case, you know; you get bored or something or remember that before you go to bed you should always- well, you know the drill. Anyway, hope you all enjoy; let me know if you need anything!" With a flauntingly fast bow she took off back towards the temple ground.

"… **She's not even being subtle about my teeth anymore."** Pitch murmured with mock hurt as he watched her go as Jack spoke.

"You gotta admit they are pretty bad though." Black stared out at the barren landscape as he deadpanned.

"**Forgive me that I tired of using the internal organs of my dead enemies for my dental hygiene years back."** To their horrified expressions he was quick to add with a sense of bizarre contempt.

"**I was joking by the way, I do that sometimes." **

The moon is in the sky now, pristine and pure and perfect in both the motion of it's, for the moment, full phase and all of it's notions; even the small scars of indented craters in the greys of it's imperfection seemed to endorse it's beauty as it hangs suspend in the night's deepened blue air. They sit and drink up the oh so starry night as the light and dark intermix and dance despite the cold, the light illuminated there bleeds between the veins filling among the shards of stars coupled with the moon's brilliance, a pallet of softened caresses and heated glances and wanton lips of lost loves. The stretched arch of the sky almost goes full circle, or at least looks like it does from where they sit; an artist's canvas speckled with a craft man's care.

"**It's just a broken ship you know, the Moon Clipper. That is it's great disguise, hidden as a moon, but the mechanics came undone in the scheme of things between the wars that were waged. Now it's stuck there as a testament, proving to give light even in times of the darkest hour; yet still setting a silent example that even broken things can still shine beauty."** North murmured, voice muffled still in awe of the artistry.

"Does star gazing always make you so poetic?"

"**Oh you have no idea." **

But there on the ground, a circle of moonlight begins to pool, distracted too much by the cautious movement to notice their friends until they're practically upon them.

"It's him, it's him!" Tooth is practically screaming it as she flies with her fits balled up and pulled towards her face in excitement, Jack trembles with the anticipation, Aster and North stare wide eyed and nervous, and Sanderson smiles and dances punching his tiny hands in the air as the snow blows in the playful wind. Black enlists only to stand, knuckles paled as his fingers are kept tightly wound in his hands.

The man doesn't fall or land or teleport or just up and suddenly appear, it's a gradual appearance; first there is a gathering of moon beams on the ground and then in the air and as they clump together, packed in so tightly among one another soon the Guardians couldn't tell one moon beam from the others and as the slow flakes spiraled furiously a silhouette began to take shape. A man's frame began to fill within the lines graciously with an indent there in the nose and a kind chin there and a pair of sturdy shoulders there as well. Once the canvas was readied gentle shadows and shades lightly formed in a gentle grey along the edges of a now somewhat defined suit and over coat both white as freshly fallen snow. His skin carries a softness like a summers ripe peaches while his lips lay as cherries where from above a crop of pale brown hair is pushed back yet still curls tightened from thought from the underneath where burrowed on either sides of his nose are darkened sapphires that take in the shape reflected of the darkness. The Man in the Moon's eyes immediately find him even where half hides behind the others, a pleased smile already in place and there's a careful fondness in his person but in the other there is nothing but cold and blaze. There's the silent crack of thunder's warning at a glance circulating just in the air.

They're on thin ice when their eyes meet.


	5. Chapter Four

**Yay new chapter the night before finals! Anyway I'm gonna get quick to business and thank the very lovely Solmea who posted the entire background of Pitch as a reminder of what happened to him (but mostly a reminder to me that he doesn't remember who he was before the whole incident with the Fearlings). **

**THIS IS SOMETHING I WANT TO ADDRESS REAL QUICK AND IT IS IMPORTANT (and contains huge spoilers yet again for the very amazing books): Pitch's memory or lack there of was something I had heard about but then ignored in favor of inspiration that would come if he did remember, and then began writing this piece; before I had completely finished all three books to know that yes, there is a huge cliff hanger that comes after the third one (which kills my insides). Anyway, in this story the very end of third book never happened, there was no cliff hanger, Pitch escaped them in cowardice after Katherine stopped them from killing him (which is why in the movie they chase after him in order to stop him from going without punishment). When Pitch was turning human he was remembering his daughter and the life he lived before which was what continued to make him human, he still wanted to adopt Katherine to rebuild the family he once had, but when he escaped at Punjam Hy Lu he steeled himself to a life of solitude and hatred and it was enough to destroy the human part of him. His rebuilt rebellion seen in the movie is him continuing to show that he is the monster he always has been. **

**Hope that explains somethings and it will be addressed by Pitch briefly in the next chapter. ****Love you guys and as always, enjoy! **

**~DotB**

Pitch took one look at the Man with nothing but spite in his mouth and acid in his eyes and a heart pumping frozen rivers of iced rage and immediately turned around and began to stomp through the snow on heavy feet.

"Not even a 'Hello'?" The shade paused for a moment there, turning his head to the side to address him, pointedly not looking at the Man.

"**I came here only to make sure that you were well and sound, and now that I have seen that you are indeed in such a state I shall take my leave." **The Man twisted his lips on that as consideration playing in his eyes.

"Well, maybe I could get a 'Goodbye'?" Pitch seemed to find anger in that as his brow wrinkled with it, pulling down over his eyes as he seethed.

"**You're just going to give up, just like that? Not even going to try to persuade me to join your 'side' of this tug of war, truly? Nothing?" **The Man became solemn, face neutral with a lit of something like hope earnest in his voice.

"I don't want to push you Pitch; you'll come when you want to join." It only made Pitch angrier though, insulted with it he insulted the Man as compensation right back as him turned to face him, body alit with a curved walk as the predator he was on his prey.

"**That was one thing I never did like about you; you never tried. Everything always came so easy to you that no effort was ever required; when you want the world saved you just call up someone else to do it, forget about ever fighting to save it yourself." **The Man fell on defense, remaining calm and staying reasonable while Pitch dragged his namesake in the dirt, trying to find a way that wouldn't cause more rage in the shade.

"Well then how would you like me to act, what do you want me to do? Because it seems that everything I do is wrong in your eyes." Pitch's eyes only narrowed at the attempt, contempt strong in his voice.

"**It's nice to be pursued, you know. At least give the pretense that you can pretend that you care." **The Man walked forward, a slight rise in him that Pitch would even think such a thing and letting him know it.

"I care about you. I've always cared about you." Black lowered his head down to the level of the shorter Man, teeth bared and eyes half lidded as sarcasm rolled off of him

"**Well you had me fooled. Given the thousand something years of neglect you've shown me." **The Man met his gaze, surprised that Black would even say something like that; he knew that they had fallen apart in the ways of war but he had never thought it to be that bad, there was something about them that could be fixed, he knew it.

"What do you mean I had you 'fooled'?" Black raised his head and tilted it back, hands clasped behind his back as he circled his younger counterpart, rage in his mouth plagued the air around them and it carried thick resentment with it.

"**What after all these years everyone's done nothing but try and get rid of me, and you've let them; hell you encouraged it. I've been doing this for millenniums now and out of nowhere you get to decide that my time is up? That I am worthless and incompetent and a monster when I was only doing my job? I'll show you a monster 'old friend' and will fight against you and everything you hold dear I swear upon my life I will not rest you old coot. For this planet will burn on the essence of fear and the fire will thrive on the gasoline of tears like all the other planets simply because of a match you lit long ago; and don't you dare try and pin this as just another one of episodes of madness, I have a reason and I have always had a reason." **The Man's eyes were deadlocked under a film of sadness painted around the iris, his expression was blank but in that you could still see how this pained him.

"And what would that be?" Black wouldn't let him be as he stopped his circle curved pacing, determined to let loose all he had built up in him after all these long lonely years.

"**That this is your fault and I'll have you know that I will write your name in the ashes of this place once I am finished." **It was clear the Man was hurt and his voice bleak, only finding a sliver of the anger that Black had wanted to corrupt him with.

"You know, out of all your enemies and out of all their acclaimed hatred for you; I think you will always hate yourself so much more than they ever will. Because no one knows your crimes better than yourself Pitch, but alongside that no one knows how much you hurt. You ache, all over, even now you hide the wince you have when you move because you're too damned stubborn to even acknowledge it in the first place; because if you did you might have to admit that you need help to take care of yourself and Moon forbid that ever happens." With arms folded behind him his eyes gave a slight look up in a roll under a recently creased brow.

"**What do you mean by that?" **Yet it only puzzled Pitch, the uncovering of this new layer; an old scab he'd long ago elected to ignore and now had forgotten, the pain evident at the Man's prodding.

"You won't let people help you because you don't want to become dependent on someone because that would mean letting someone in and you have this world splitting fear of that because it might mean that someday you would have to let them go." He was bleeding from the irritated wound, lighting anger back in his veins.

"**Look what happened to me last time I trusted someone and let them in." **The Man instantly slumped at that, his own hurt open as his expression softened at the slap of the shades words in an attempt of explanation.

"… I am a _horrible_ example…" But he mistook the relaxation of the shoulders of the shadows as opposed to his usual muscle induced shaking and on edge manner for progress.

"**It's fine, you are forgiven if that's what you're looking for; I've learned and I've gained that fear from the experience and I know better now, it's fine." **This pained the Man further as he walked towards leading with his tipped chin, arms open and his heart, as always, was open as his eyes leaned towards pleading.

"It's not fine. In fact it's nothing close to fine." He stopped for a moment as he tried to draw himself back to formality as the Nightmare King went rigid where he stood.

"I want to be better, about that, about everything, but mostly about you. I handled it wrong and I'm sorry and I wish that there was a way that I could-." The shadow shook his head full of denial and continued his disguise as he walked farther and farther away.

"**But there's not, and you are forgiven. Now I must return to my shadows, have a nice night-." **Suddenly with all the phases of his gusto the Man yelled out to him yet his letters precise and heavy, having used words he knew would force attention without much thought.

"General Kozmotis Pitchiner." They all know the face of a broken man; and they are staring right at him. He's falling apart, all the cracks breaking from underneath him, there is no support for him and the seams of him have come undone as the ground shifts in a deadly break and he is falling. As he falls he stands stock still, frozen in the stream of syllables and drowning in every iced chill of the memories it sends through him, eyes wide and horrified and staring off into a place none of them can see or imagine, a place he finds no solace in as his jaws looses from lack of attention to it; but he is too focused, he's stuck in the pin point of this too suddenly before his eyes as his body stands weightless only because no one bothered to tie him down. But he still hits the ground hard enough to forget how to breathe. The Man recognizes his mistake in this, but still feels the need to push so he does, but his mouth is weak and his hands hang uselessly as he tries the air of command.

"The least you could do is look at me when I talk to you."

"**But how-?" **The Man isn't happy or angry or sad, he is solemn and neutral and supported by a structure of his knowledge of things.

"I know many, many things; too many things in fact." Pitch unthinkingly does turn and can merely stare; now he is shell shocked and razor rattled and he tastes glass in his mouth and bullets in his head; he has forgotten completely the other Guardians, for this is only them and this is only now as he croaks on the stinging sensation of a wasp's tears.

"**Am I a mistake?" **There is reasoning in the Man from the Moon's voice, light still but every letter is a brick beaten along the shade's temple to temple.

"No, you've never been a mistake. Not in my eyes." He doesn't hear or isn't truly listening, not really, he has chugged gasoline and he feels it in the sparks of his rubbed raw burns; the flakes of crusted black flesh peel and fall like chunked snowflakes, red on the snow drift. His eyes are cigarette burns and their glassy overcoat is shoved lemons that roll rocks into his eyes; his voice is choked with mirror shards.

"**Then what am I besides a monster?" **He is too focused now as the Man shifts his feet a bit with his shoulders concave and his arms dried sea wood, his eyes are on the ground as Black stabs his pain shooting through his eyes and sending it through the Man's every pore. The Man looks to the sky, licking chapped lips with a parched tongue.

"They say every journey begins something like that; the hero's journey always begins with 'who am I?'… And that's up to you now." He can only barely meet the shade's eyes along the ice, too estranged now, too close to anything like tears and scars and shattered, broken, things. Black defies him with his scorned eyes, narrowed and close, too close, to something that looks like tears as he berates himself.

"**I'm not a hero I am a villain who creeps in the darkness to terrify children for night's sake-." **The Man approaches him too fast with his arms begging eyes casted blue and everything desperate to stop where he knows this is going.

"You could do something else, something new-."All is in vain as the shadow all but screams in a yell overflown with fury and true upset flying out of him directly aimed at the Man.

"_**I HAVE NO OTHER PURPOSE." **_Once his outburst has been freed he has a brief moment to collect himself before, with breathing still heavy, to elaborate.

"**This is it, this is all I have, this abusive cycle, this imminent hatred and loathing and plotting and planning and the carnage and that is all I have, I have nothing left to offer-…" **His words are second in hopelessness only to himself as the Man speaks on the pointed edges of dainty snowflakes.

"I don't believe that." The Man's words still can't reach him from where he drowns, blind to the life line thrown out to him.

"**And no one believes in me and I can't-." **The Man throws out yet another.

"I do." The shades sees it now, uncertain if he should even try to swim out to meet him, or if he should let the waves pull him back down to their depths where he belongs; yet still, here is a man offering hope in delicate words of promise.

"I believe in you." He feels the need to scoff at the Man, so he does in order to back away from this closeness, trying to breathe and stop his suffication with a smirk that can't match his eyes.

"**The boy who never had a nightmare believes in the Boogeyman?" **The Man does with it, his words still kind and light and not reeking of the plow he used to uproot and rip the shadow of a man in front of him. There's a small dance in him, a swivel to his hips and a confidence in his walk as he begins to walk in half circle.

"Oh I don't believe in the Boogeyman; who I do believe in is one of my favorite Guardians." Pitch is back now to his anger, a roll lives in his eye like dice on the table.

"**Of course you pick favorites… Wh-."**

"Oh I know that you've heard of them; they're caring and sensitive and they have a real battle cry." With this he gives both Toothiana and North a balanced nod and a smile curved in pride in their acknowledgement.

"They'd drop everything for someone in need despite whatever excruciating pain they might be in." There his eyes meet briefly with Aster and Jack, brimmed with joy at both their success and other potentials.

"Despite the fact that they don't quite have a way with words, sometimes it's the motive behind their actions that are the loudest." A downward turn as well to the keeper of the dream sand, something Sanderson bowed to as the Man took a well turned pivot to look back at Pitch.

"_And;_ they're one of the strongest Generals in all the universe." The Nightmare King steadied himself, spine straight and muscles rigid as he grit out his response.

"**I was weak." **There a shake in his head as his smile melted away to his resolve as he countered the shade.

"That wasn't weakness. That was a man braving the shadows to save his daughter; it wasn't your fault that they had you tricked, so don't you dare go blaming yourself Koz, it wasn't your fault." The King found enough substance in that to be enraged by the driven memory, remembering her and the way that she would dance and chase after him and run and run and run and way she would always pick him flower every time before he-

"**That is completely beside the point and you know it; don't you dare talk about her or else I'll-."**

"Throw a massive tantrum and kill everyone who's happier than you in her memory? Burn down the planet to forget her? Because that's definitely emotionally healthy, without a doubt; please continue." All he could do was stare back at the sudden show of exposed cruelty caused by him and to him.

"Sorry, not all of us go out on sprees of hatred when who we hate most is ourselves." The shade shook his head to clear his thoughts and burrowed deeply in his old safe guards.

"**Besides, in case you haven't noticed; I'm not a Guardian." **To which the Man fought back such a statement with his tongue sharp and a finger pointed with a smile evident.

"_Yet_. You're not a Guardian _yet_. I have a fairly strong sense that you will be though; and you know that I'm usually not wrong on subjects like this." With hands clenched the shade cracked his words towards the Man in prosecution.

"**As in you're a spoiled boy who won't stop until he gets what he wants and it doesn't matter about anyone else's will that interferes with your own." **The Man didn't even find the offense that had been so blatantly bashed into order.

"No… let's just say I have impressive ways of persuasion." Black rolled his eyes once more with his arms tucked behind his back in irritation.

"**And this coming from the Man who believes I'll join when I want to, who says he won't push me." **To this the Man assured him:

"You will want to, it might take a while, but you will."

"_**Hmm." **_ Pitch relented with a sigh and chewed on the inside of his mouth while the Man in the Moon watched him quietly, something that had long ago become a habit of his. It wasn't until Pitch slapped him with eclipsed eyes that he looked away and to the ground, unsure of how to go or what direction he should take. But he found it; yet his voice was cast in something akin to woe and eyes downtrodden.

"You know, out of all the stories I've read, and believe me there have been many; yours is by far the saddest." This captured the shades attention immediately as his entire being quickly turned to him as he continued, eyes wide and a feeling of being exposed overcoming him while he stared.

"It makes me want to cry." On half trembling lips the shade replied without revealing much of the waves slamming against the sharp rocks that took place inside him.

"**I remember well what your tears can do…" **With apprehension the Man discreetly placed his hand within his pocket as his fingers reached gracefully and searched until he found what he so desired. He pulled back his hand and with it care a small thing on a silver chain, the soft way the two metal pieces slid against one another sounded comforting but caused Pitch to still completely at a halt. The Man inspected it carefully; looking at what appeared to be a small oval shaped silver locket, a child like pattern engraved on the front with it's shy flowers and birds. When he spoke his words were affectionate and warm yet still held an edge to them.

"I really wish that you had never thrown this old thing away, so much history behind it. Quiet a pretty little thing, do you want it back?" Pitch's words were steeled and mildly agitated, not answering the Man's question. Black wouldn't even look at it.

"**That was a long time ago, the only thing to do now is move past it." **

"And 'endure'?" There was almost a laugh in his tone, almost, until he became serious once more and began a more weighted thought.

"I went back in time." Pitch's shock was evident but his brows still pinched down close to his golden grey eyes.

"**What? Why?" **The man spoke in simplicity as he began a causal walk around them.

"To see you." He looked up to the sky, feeling the Nightmare King's stare rested upon his shoulder.

"Well, to be honest the real reason I went back was to kill you. I was scared, being friends with you; the whole reason I started talking to you in the first place was to find out 'why'. Why you did the things you did. Why you killed my parents. Why you killed all of them. I reasoned that there had to be a reason that you had done the things that you did and I was sure I could find it. So I talked to you, which was scary, let me tell you; and then I kept talking to you and soon I wasn't scared of you, and then somehow in those years I became friends with you, which was terrifying. So I decided to go back, to kill you, to end it all before it could even dare to begin.

"But then I _saw_ you. And it was the most beautiful things in all the universe the way you looked at her, the way you loved her; the way you dedicated every moment, every second, to her. Everything you did was for her. And I saw you; and I knew you. I knew the way your face looked and the way your eyes shined and the way your voice sounded and the way your lips moved and _it was you_. Different and happy but you; and I'm starting to think that I really want to make you happy, which still scares me by the way, but still…

"I wanted to see where it all went wrong, so I stuck around, and I stayed for you. I went just a skip in your timeline and to where you were the prison guard of a place where every inmate was someone you had captured; all alone yet they both hated and feared you. And I watched. You were so strong, in the beginning, you fought them you really did, with everything that was inside you, you fought. And it wasn't your fault, any man would have broken after a week of that but you lasted years Koz, you lasted years of it in that dark hell and you did it for her. You tried so hard, and then you doubted yourself, and that's okay, and you just had to check, I know you did; to see if it was truly her, if it was her screaming your name and I understand. Any father would have had to check on their daughter eventually if they heard her screaming for days and days on end, you waited thirteen strong days before you had to check and see if it was her or not; so you went to save her from the monsters you were beginning to think you locked her in with, it's not your fault. We all make mistakes and… It…

"It was one of the most horrifying things I've ever seen. The way they ripped you apart limb by limb and spun your body around until it became twisted so unnaturally as they shoved themselves clawing at you and feasted on you and burrowed deep within your very core and left you a man devoured as they pulled the meat from the marrow of your soul and…

"You fought… And I know you, and you are my best friend and… I'm so sorry. I've ruined it, I've ruined all of it but I never meant to, it's just that when I came back I couldn't look at you the same way. I couldn't pretend that everything was okay so I didn't talk to you and I avoided you and I ignored you but I swear I always listened to you; every prayer you ever sent me and every wish you ever had and all of the saddened things you murmured and I even listened to all of your insults and threats because I know that I deserve them and I still do and… I'm sorry, for everything and… I just want to see you happy, really I do. I never wanted to hurt you… But in the end, it still happened and I'm so-…

"And I know you probably hate me for all the terrible things I've done, I know that; but this is your second chance. You were a forest of dead trees and I lit the match that tried to destroy you and then left you in ashes; but now is your chance to grow, to come back new and wholesome and healthy and that's all I've ever wanted. Don't you see that now?" The Man's ocean blue eyes looked with a hopeless innocence met the matured pain in the injured shadow's; as the shade suddenly began pulling away as a form of defense of some sort to something he perceived as dangerous.

"**So all of this; just some sort of plan to 'build me back up again' after all the pain and loneliness you left me with. And what; you think after hearing this I'll just instantly up and decide to become a Guardian? Genius M, true and unadulterated genius."**

"Pitch, wait-!" But Black was already beginning to walk away and this time the Man knew he wouldn't stop unless he gave him one last reason to.

"I have something else to tell y-." He paused only for a moment to look at him as his voice snapped and slapped him.

"**I'm tired M, all of this has left me so tired; let me rest and leave me alone. Please. And don't bother trying to 'fix' me again. It's neither worth your time nor your effort." **

"You are though, why can't you see that?" Before the Man could offer any more words of condolence the shade slander himself in pieces with cracks in his tongue.

"**Do you think I haven't tried before, and all of it, in vain. Every time I think about it and every time I try it-. I have no reason to change for anyone, not you, not your Guardians, no one: I have no one, so who have I to disappoint? Forgive me old friend, but your sob story wasn't enough; do you think I don't know about everything that's happened to me? I practically relive it every day in and day out. Why do you think I threw it away?" **So compelled was his sure and spited rage that he did not even falter to fully notice the small buds harboring themselves in the snow; too broken to begin the recognition of something possibly whole.

"**Because at the end of the day it doesn't make a difference." **The Man wasn't so quiet as he whispered gently on the wind:

"But it _could_…" The shadow snapped once more and barked in authority's voice.

"**No it can't you over indulged **_**child**_**." **The Man from the Moon stilled and merely voted to watch him, compressed down so roughly at this point that he was beginning to loose his fight; it appeared as though all of his cards had been played at this point in their little gamble.

That of course was not the case.

"**Now what was it you wanted to tell me?" **There was a lit of an apology at the sight of his seemingly depressed old friend; that soon changed.

"I changed something." The Man's words weren't spoken in happiness or hope or anything at all actually; just the quiet acceptance that here was where he was crossing a line at Pitch's narrowed eyes.

"When I went back in time, I altered your time line when I was there." This set fuse to the shadow as he yelled in no longer contained anger giving him an ear full of shattered consequences he might have let loose upon the world.

"_**Excuse me?! **_**You don't just**_** do**_** that**_**, **_**you could have**_** seriously **_**upset the balance now **_**what the hell did you change for so help you poor bastard if one second you even thought about-."**_

"What? Thought about what? Changing what happened to you? Or making you forget about everything?" He shook his head at his own words and what they had proposed, worn were his lips and tired were his eyes, exhausted from this whole ordeal as he wove circles along his temples with his kind hands before letting them drop to his side as Pitch waited with so called patience. Flowers grew with petals of varied colors and types of beauties and wonder as the other Guardians observed them briefly; being the only ones to have noticed as the MiM continued.

"It's already happened Koz; I was extremely careful, it took years for me to work on the calculations to make sure I got it exactly right, and just for that moment in time I-." He met the Nightmare King's eyes straight on, trying to communicate to him how important he thought the shade was and how he cared; and with those careful words he said something he didn't quite know how to say, expression pained and eyes drowned in worry as his hands ticked in nerves.

"I gave you someone who would help you change, Koz." Pitch's anger kept and did not wan as his disgust became evident in a sneer.

"**Oh don't compliment yourself-."** The man held his palms open in caution as his words quickly left him.

"Please just don't be mad don't be-."

Her voice is bells on a deadly quiet night, ringing and pure and beautiful and soft and light; a guidance and a comfort and of everything she is she is everything that is young and wonderful in the world. She is the one good thing. Nothing in the world could ever compare to:

"_Daddy?!" _


	6. Chapter Five

**Hey guys here's the last chapter plus the Epilogue! Thank you all so much for the favorites, comments, and follows, they have all served as a very kind reminder to keep writing. And on that note the Prologue for the sequel of this fic has been written and will be posted with the first chapter as soon as I finish the first chapter (surprisingly, 'A Man Devoured' is beginning to look much more like a prequel...). Also, my apologues for the repetition in the last chapter, I'm considering editing certain things for when I describe which character is saying what AND I AM SO HAPPY WHAT YOU GUYS THOUGHT ABOUT MiM! He's going to continue making appearances, and for those of you wondering; yes, I do like slash ;}**

**Hope you all enjoy and let's see who can spot the Hannibal Lecter quote!**

**~DotB **

Nothing has been quiet as frozen as this moment.

He doesn't think, he acts without even knowing it and soon every inch of him is set in motion and he's running towards that sound as he's always done unquestionably and there she is and it's _her_. She's_ here_. But that doesn't even matter now because now she is in his arms and he has her and she is almost every bit the way he remembers her and she is everything. He's holding her and he's spinning her around like he used to, and she's laughing and he's holding her so close to him; so tight because he's scared to let go, he's scared to loosen up his grip, scared that she'll slip right through his fingers and never come back like a leaf lost in the wind.

He only stops to bend his knee and place her carefully on the ground as his dented hands gently cup her face and _it's her_. It really is this time, he can feel it, deep down he knows that it's her and not the lying shadows of the last time he thought he heard her voice. And her _voice_. And her_ smile_. And the way she is beaming up at him even now and it's as though he's a _hero_ again.

Her eyes are shining the most perfect blue of sapphire cast from a wedding ring just like her mother's eyes had been, her lips a summer's blaze in a curled little smile reserved only for him. Her skin is pale and perfect as porcelain yet flushed in excitement like on her seventh birthday, when he bought her that locket she had been wishing for; the one she later gave back to him when he had to leave her behind for war. Her little nose is upturned and round and captures him like her mother's had, so different from his own bent one; and her hair as soft as he remembers as if made of the finest inky silk and she is practically squirming in his hands she can't keep still. And even now her little wheat fingers move and grab at his sharp cheek bones, holding them in the palm of her warm hands that smell like the small garden she used to help her mother tend to, of the earthworms and the newly plotted plants and the soft dirt under her nails and her warmth cradles him like a blanket.

And after all these years he has her now, the one thing that has always been missing, the hole in his chest the constant longing and wanton heart beat for love all doesn't matter now because she's here. She's so small and delicate and he's so scared that with so much as a light brush she will wilt, and like the baby ducklings he used to watch her chase around the pond she it is as though she fits in the very center of his hand. She is everything he has ever held dear and he doesn't feel broken anymore, he doesn't feel like a mistake because now he has a purpose to be alive, she is the reason he fought all those years ago to conquer the monsters that made her scream in the night that he vowed they would never make her tremble in fear ever again. She's back and she's here and she's in his arms and she has never felt so real.

"Daddy?" Her voice is a kindness but she is beginning to look worried and he doesn't want to think about why because all he wants is for her to be happy.

"**Yes flower?"**

"Why are you crying?" He hadn't even realized or taken any sort of notice as he felt the rainwater falling from his eyes, his voice is weak as he tries to explain.

"**I just missed you really bad."** He offers her a smile to reassure her that he is okay before he hugs her to his chest again as he ungracefully sits down with her curled in arms where she belongs because this is where he knows that she's safe.

But then he remembers what exactly it was that he always kept her safe from, the dark shadows and nightmares and monsters that would come in the night. The Fearlings and the Dream Pirates and the Nightmare Men and he soon realizes that he is no better than any of them, in fact he is the King of all dark things of the night; and realizes that he has become the very thing he always set out to protect her from, which means that she is no longer safe with him, he's just another monster. And that tears him apart more than the Fearlings ever did and he barely recognizes when the sobs begin to rip themselves from his chest in world shattering earthquakes. Her hands grab at him to find a good hold as she buries her head into his chest, quietly she shushes him almost to mock the way he used to calm her, she gives him time before she pops her head up and speaks words she thinks will comfort him.

"Daddy, it's okay. I've been really safe like you always told me to and I didn't talk to strangers and I stayed out of the shadows and I ate my vegetables and besides, Mr. MiM has been taking care of me pretty good and he's really nice, I think you'd like him." Pitch looks to the Man with eyes faded and worn and attempts to give him a soft smile but it turns brittle on his lips because he doesn't know how he should feel towards him, he'll gather his feelings later and decipher them once he's settled. He gives him a short nod for now and it's not until he looks back to his daughter that he can find purchase for a genuine smile; something real and warm and heartfelt and he feels like he's home at last and the rain is coming again from his eyes. He can't remember the last time he felt so completely happy and is beginning to think that after he lost her he never was again, until now. With butterfly touch she wipes away his tears like the big girl she is, strong and independent and free and now that he's started smiling he can't stop, not that he really wants to try anyway. Her voice is delicate then yet retains the calming effect she's always had on him like where the ocean meets the shore in gentle waves.

"I hate when you cry." He lifts his own voice with all the comfort he can manage for her, assurance packed in every syllable and love with every letter of what he says to her.

"**I have a feeling I won't have a reason to cry anymore."** There's a quiet _'Not with you here' _but he doesn't say it for fear the tears will only come again. She gives him a big peck on the cheek in the way that children often do, and he wishes that he could give her one in return but he doesn't for fear that a kiss from him would poison her.

He's still enraptured by her and the blushing pink cherry blossoms tangled in her hair among the green leaves and tiny tufts of grass; he looks down to watch her hands when they pull away briefly as she plucks a small twig of a flower from her hair as he notices how every tip of her finger is tinged in green, especially gathered there on her thumbs. He stretches his hand out to take one of them but before she lets him she tucks the flower behind his ear with a victorious giggle and he laughs with her imagining the image of him that she has just painted. Once her hands are in his he swings them, together, back and forth and she shuffles her feet laughing as he lightly spins her round. She's so real and it's still not something he can fully fathom or else he'll probably start crying again because now it's like _they can be a family again_. And as selfish as it makes him feel, he won't be _alone_ anymore. He has someone now.

And in all honesty this does feel like home now and he's never felt so much peace in one single moment. So much of something he'd been convinced for all these years that he'd never have, love.

Out of the corner of his eye and in the whisper of his ear he sees the Man from the Moon shift over to whisper to his Guardians in an excited tone:

"_Doesn't he just have the most beautiful smile?!"_ And in response Pitch graces him with a meaningless sour glare and a roll of his eyes but his smile is still there; because the Man is hardly keeping himself in check and is borderline blubbering in the state he's gotten himself into, hands fanning himself and on the edge of tears and making hopelessly disgruntled noises. But only now does his daughter seem to realize that there are others here with them, and just like she used to when strangers came over, she quickly hides behind him until she can find the quiet courage to peek at them.

"_Daddy, Daddy there's a giant bunny rabbit. A _GIANT_ bunny rabbit. And a pretty bird lady. Daddy what do I do?"_ He turns his head to speak to her from over his shoulder.

"Well, do you want to talk to them?" She's grabbing fists of his overcoat in her hands and squirming in excitement in a little dance.

"_I wanna pet the bunny. He's _so_ cute!"_ And now she's jumping up and down as he looks up to Aster before addressing him.

"**Bunnymund, may my daughter pet you?"** The Pooka looks a bit confused meeting his eye but soon enough he nods a 'yes' and his daughter is all but yet running and practically screaming towards him in a beeline with her arms flailing while he calls after her:

"**Be careful and don't pet him too hard, okay?"** She doesn't answer because at this point she's arrived to her destination and is hugging his leg and pawing at his soft feet while Pitch watched in pleasant content. The smile still had yet to leave him and found in his chest a laughter that wasn't cruel or mocking that he had long forgotten about.

Soon he found his gaze drift to the Man and his emotions faded to see the bigger picture as he soon walked forward to him almost neutral, once there his voice felt flat and empty as compared to what it had just been.

"**I find this to be disgustingly manipulative I'll have you know."** The Man seems to depress at that, physically lowering in his shoulders as he flicks his tongue on cracked lips, looking for words.

"It's not meant to be…" The Nightmare King doesn't relent though, and pushes onward.

"'**Meant to be' what? An act of kindness delivered from the goodness of your heart?"** But the moon man only brightens at the cold tone of voice, lightening at the prospect of being understood.

"Yes, exactly I-."

"**How coincidental. You have a way of doing that often you know. Almost as if on cue."** The Man toughens at that and buckles down.

"You know how unplanned everything is you know I don't-."

"**Oh no I do, of course I do. But do they?"** The Man follows his line of sight to his Guardians, of course when Black's eyes find his daughter his lips are automatically marked in an upturn.

"No. It's always good to look like you know what you're doing." His words and voice have the air of a confessional as his ocean blues meet the eclipsed sun and suddenly Pitch seems to confine in him just like good old times but with a darkened tinge.

"**How did she-…?"** It was the quiet knowledge that in order for all of them to become what they had, the Easter Bunny the Tooth fairy and Santa Claus, the spirits of so many different important things of a precious child's world; one had to die. They had all died in their own ways, some of them many times. But in order for one to become a spirit an end was always needed. The Man knew what Pitch was referring to and soon answered.

"Only a couple years after you. She fell from a tree, head first. She didn't feel any pain, and all things considered it was very peaceful. That's when I showed her the other way and she became what she is now." The Nightmare King could only nod to that, barren in acknowledgement as he spoke with a voice looking for completeness.

"**She was always like that, so brave, she was never scared of things she should have been; nothing could hold her back."** Their was quiet relief in him that he had not been the one to kill her himself out of the lack of not remembering her in the early days when he had been so consumed by hatred and war lust.

They stood there, the two of them; the darkness putting up with the light as the light complimented the dark, the way it always had been. To each other they were a strange form of comfort stuck in the silence where sound isn't needed, a kind lull between them that wasn't painful or irritating but only seemed to draw them closer as they watched the others in their play.

"**I'll do it."** The sound caught the Man immediately off in surprise.

"Um what do what-?"

"**I'll become one of your Guardians."**

"Wha-really?!"

"**If that is what you still want."**

"Wh-yes of course that's what I want is that what you want?"

"**Yes. It is, she needs a father who isn't a monster and I'm tired of being one."** He could only stare at the shadow of a soldier with his eyes wide and jaw slackened, unsure of what the appropriate action would be so as not to scare Pitch off.

"D-do you want a hug?" Black's brow dropped almost immediately at he stared back in tempered disbelief and surprise at the suggestion.

"Never mind I-." But there was reassurance in Black's voice when he spoke

"**No no no no no, it's fine. A hug would work just fine M." **With a wildfire grin he jumped on the taller General and held him fiercely, borderline desperately even as he whispered in the other's ear once he felt strong arms around himself.

"I like us Koz." And once they pulled away from one another lasting just a bit too long than most would have the shadow spoke in a voice ushered by fondness with a knifed edge.

"**You and me? Given our history? No one has any reason to like us in one another's presence, and if they did they be damned mad in the head to even think of it."** The Man merely seemed to dust the other's jacket fixing it back into place as he did so with a night kissed smile present on his moon lighted lips.

"I don't find us insane." To which the General only found laughter in, one that rolled along the pit of his belly and caressed the sky.

"**Oh yes that's right you think we're practically sanity incarnate."** To which the Man only said on words slivered like lightning, his hands rested on the shadow man's chest.

"I do." Pitch turned serious then as his smile hid and his eyes pulled taunt.

"**They'll talk you know, about us."** Yet the Man remained unaffected with blue half lidded and a smile slow and sticky as honey.

"Let them, they always do."

"**People will say we're in love."**

"I'll confess it when you will." The Man gave Black a sharp slap on his armored chest plate as he turned back to face his Guardians, some of which were sending questioning glances but he soon waved them off before calling out:

"Someone grab the book!" All the others save for Black's daughter and Frost gawked at the implied meaning while Jack shouted in a question.

"Wait, what book?" Black massaged his temples once more with the Man exclaimed his impatience.

"The book we grab when we don't want to give them enough time to change their mind so hurry!" With that North in double time searched around in his furred coat only to come up empty handed as he soon ran over to the Man from the Moon and the Nightmare King.

"I must have left it in the Pole I don't know if-."

"No it's fine we'll just have to find something else to swear him in on. What do you usually use?" To this the Russian straightened as his expression drew a bit of a blank.

"You I guess." The Man met Black's eyes but with a certain lack of amusement he stared solemnly on right through him as he dictated.

"**No. I want it to be for someone else…"** The Man looked on with complex confusion while his mouth moved to ask whereas the General's eyes looked away.

"Then who would you-?" At that moment the Man followed the shadowed one's line of sight as together they looked upon a little girl growing flowers from the ground by her very whim.

"Hm. She could work really well actually." Pitch walked away to fall by her side while the Man motioned the other Guardians over with wide eyes anticipation obvious.

"**Flower?"** He bent one knee meeting her vivid green eyes as she looked up to meet him in return.

"Yes Daddy?" He knew now that if he analyzed his emotions at this moment tears would crack him and so mentally he reeled in, still pushing to accept this reality.

"Something very important is happening but I need your help, okay?" She nods her head unquestioning with a pleased smile when he comes closer to whisper:

"**Daddy's going to become a Guardian."** She stood up immediately.

"WHAT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GUNNA BE A GUARDIAN? LIKE THEM, ARE YOU GUNNA BE LIKE THEM? ARE YOU GUNNA TURN INTO A GIANT BUNNY OR A BIRD LADY? DADDY YOU WOULD MAKE SUCH A GREAT BUNNY BIRD LADY DADDY PLEASE." He sighed but with the repeated content smile on his chapped lips as calmly explained.

"**Flower darling Daddy's not going to turn in a bunny, a bird, or a lady today-."** To this she gave an exaggerated groan as her tiny frame slumped, her grave disappointment obvious.

"**-But, he is getting a promotion to become one of the most valued warriors in all the galaxy."** And as an after thought Pitch added with slight contemplation:

"**Again."** But instead of a congratulatory smile or loving compliment her face only twisted to one of sadness as her eyes widened and watered.

"Does this mean you're going to have to go away like last time?" His words were quick to assure her and his hand even faster as he cupped one side of her face, every inch of him softened by devotion.

"**No, that's never going to happen again, I promise. In fact, by becoming a Guardian it only means that we will be able to spend even more time together. How does that sound, flower?"** She brightened immediately at this and threw herself at him in a quick embrace that he melted into.

"Very good. I missed you." She murmured before pulling away her arms yet leaving behind one hand to hold onto his.

"**I missed you too."** He spoke softly with a face of memory printed.

Eventually he stood and looked back to where the others were waiting on him, readied and expectant; he nodded at the Man not noticing that the smile still halfway on his face. He walked towards them on feet unsteady with a demeanor shaken and a throat swallowed dry as the truth of the situation began to reel over him in waves, pulling him like the tide to already choke on his self doubts.

"Ready old friend?" He looked down at daughter before meeting the Man's eyes.

"**No, but I doubt I ever will be so let's begin."** He needed this, and like a mantra he both repeated and repent at the idea as the Man cleared his throat.

"I, the Man in the Moon from the longest line of constellations of the Tsar Lunar family, and as the current Tsar residing on the humbled royal Moon Clipper; bestow the alliance of Guardianship upon the revered General Kozmotis Pitchiner of the Constellation War. Now General, repeat after me." His head seemed to sharpen to crystal, the importance of this moment became obvious and how necessary this all was; Pitch needed to move forward, if not for himself or the Man than for his daughter, she deserved this much and more and this was how he was going to make up for lost time.

"We will watch over the children of earth."

"**We will watch over the children of earth."**

"Guide them safely from the ways of harm."

"**Guide them safely from the ways of harm."**

"Keep happy their hearts, brave their souls, and rosy their cheeks."

"**Keep happy their hearts, brave their souls, and rosy their cheeks."**

"We will guard with our lives their hopes and dreams."

"**We will guard with our lives their hopes and dreams."**

"For they are all that we have, all that we are, and all that we will ever be." The Nightmare King gave pause, knowing this was final; he was signing it all away, practically giving it all away, and for what a part of him scoffed. A child, just like the ones he was now vowing to protect and worst of all to help them be happy and the monster of him laughed at his decision. The monster that slayed and slaughtered and burnt all the worlds asunder, the part of him that lived way down inside him, the one he always tried to keep imprisoned and silent. There was a part of him, and he didn't know how much, that still was him. The one who didn't remember anything past hatred and violent all consuming hunger; who didn't even know about his daughter and didn't find that he could ever love anything other than the fear and plague and damnation he caused for it was all he knew of in return. But that shade had all but been obliterated when the memorizes seized him and stabbed a heart into his chest and made him care and made him feel and made him remember it, all of it. His daughter, the wars, everything; and left him with no longer the hollowness he had strived for but the responsibility of his actions that drove him little more than half to madness.

And yet here she was with eyes widened in wonder a heart full of hope a mind mended with dreams a desire for fun and the brightness of happy memories for every saddened day and _here she was_. She wasn't just a child, she was his and he was more than bound to her and he had to keep her safe, to protect her and to guard her.

So with his head tipped down to her squeezing her little hand tight he continued where he had left off:

"**For they are all that we have, all that we are, and all that we will ever be."**He couldn't go back on his word now, he wouldn't do that to her. He just had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't the end it was the beginning. For all of them.

It made him feel something that he rarely seemed to feel in exception of the last time he fell: fear. He pushed it down and locked it away with the shake of his head and focused. Before him MiM was trying not to hyperventilate or jump up and down or sing and run around in the flowers and was failing almost completely.

"Okay, now I need to give you a blessing." Jack seemed to stiffen a bit when he spoke, lightly interrupting with a sudden burst of self-concern.

"Wait, you never have me a blessing…" The Man turned to Jack and attempted to deadpan but everyone could sense the slight annoyance.

"Hm, I guess you're completely right I mean it's not like a gave you a big convenient stick that helps you to omit your powers or anything oh no I never did anything like that now did I?" He gave a slight flip with his hands on his hips as he spoke under his breath where one had to strain to hear.

"I'm so underappreciated." But Jack heard and angrily replied:

"You did ignore me for three hundred years."

"WHAT. _It just supposed to be ten what the hell?!_ Oh Jack I am _so_ sorry but now is really not the time, but I will make this up to you later." Pitch watched silently knowing that MiM would probably never make it to the boy with a quiet smirk set in place. When the Man looked back he asked him what he was smiling about and he only said 'nothing'. To this MiM grabbed his chin and looked to the ground, his brow furrowed with concentration and before Black's eyes his hair seemed to curl just a little bit extra.

"Now, what would be a good blessing…?" Suddenly he crouched down to the General's daughter and pondered to her.

"Do you have any ideas pet?" She nodded her little head in rapid succession to 'no' yet ever more he stayed to ask her something else.

"Well then what do you do when you forgive someone?" She found in that one and answered with conflicted indecision softened in her tone.

"Sometimes you hug?" To this he frowned a bit and shook his head.

"I think we might need something a bit more powerful than a hug." And then something seemed to connect as she gasped with it and with excitement grabbed onto his sleeve and exclaimed:

"What you're really supposed to do is kiss and make up, that's what mommy and daddy did when they'd get into fights, it's also what you do when someone gets hurt and needs to feel better." The Man rationalized it and made sense of it.

"A kiss is a thousand fold stronger and way more powerful than a hug, plus no one hurts more than Koz…" He stood up then after giving her a thankful nod of his head and addressed the Nightmare King.

"If you could please show me where my tear stabbed you that would work excellently." With confusion obvious Pitch shifted and removed pieces of his armor so as to expose the light scar on his left breast above where his cold and unbeating heart lay. On feather light fingers he traced them over the place where the skin was uneven and patched after healing from having a dagger pierced into it for thousand of years, his expression closed while Black averted his eyes and looked instead to the sky before the Man spoke to him.

"And with this you have my blessing." And gingerly he kissed the scar and the moonlight seemed to stick to his skin once the Man had pulled away, enlightened and bright against all his darkness until eventually it faded, sinking into his skin where he felt something stir, something change. He elected to ignore it completely.

"Oh, and I should probably give you a way to show people that your slate clean. Let me see your back." Pitch turned and exposed the skin of that as well. He soon felt careful fingers scribbling words into his skin as they carefully imprinted themselves there as a way of safe keeping, he twisted his neck to catch a glimpse of it once the Man was finished and from his view he could make out the promising words.

_ D_

He straightened and pulled his armor back up and around him and looked to the Man with the edge of a smile light on his lips, MiM smiled, pleased with his accomplishment.

"**So, how did NightLight and Ombric and Katherine take the news?"** The Man's face turned completely blank much to Black's discomfort.

"**Please tell me you told them something about me becoming a Guardian."** The Man only stared with eyes wide and face panic stricken.

"**Nothing?"** He shook his head and massaged his temples.

"**Do you want me to tell them?"**

"That would be really nice, yes please…"

_Characters featured and Guardian Oath belong to William Joyce, I only borrowed what I wish I could keep._


	7. Epilogue

They play like children.

Rebuilt and remodeled yet not lacking the honesty in every tumble and roll and soft clatter of laughter. For hours they go like this playing in their own Eden of her kingdom, a child queen and Nightmare King, losing the past tense of the old days of when they would pretend like this; when he had just gotten back from serving the front and would visit and they would make up for lost time. It's been too long and once his flower is tired enough to fall asleep lying in the cradling tufts of grass he notices the ache in his bones that he didn't use to have. The bones of his back grind together and make thunder in their age and with melancholy in each unnoticeable sigh, he tries again to recall her name again and cannot; rain gathers yet doesn't fall as he closes his eyes in distant acceptance.

The sun looses its place in the sky and night advances while his star scratched hands shift through her darkly waved hair; he knows the shadows will not hurt her here, he would never let them, and by all means they cannot enter this garden. This is the home she made herself without him, crept with unmeant neglect and filled with a reminder of his years away absence and how her life continued without his presence. It hurts him in as many ways as it is beautiful and Eden befits it's name in every sense; here the flowers of every painted pallet, far away the trees with their shade and long branches grabbing fistfuls of the sky, farther away is the kind river flowing on moss padded rocks. To this place he is only a snake bargaining apples, leering and unwanted and something that doesn't quite fit, doesn't quite belong. A place meant for him is a place that is ugly and rotten and twice as dead as he, he is not meant to contemplate man but does and tricks them with his charismatic serpentine tongue, come time and time again. But it is only in his nature and man is damned to trust him should they loose fear, something he's meant to remind them of because of his bite.

But here, as everything lies bathed in deepened blue in his sights he sees the accompanying flight of yellowed fireflies to flit in this dark, sunlight honey fresh from the comb and sticky sweet in morning tea. From behind him he only dully notices the enlightened figure, who clashes with the fireflies with its pureness, clarified and centered and white as cows milk who jumped over the moon.

The others are far away and waiting somewhere, whether in their separate corners of their worlds or gathered together in a group hidden he doesn't know nor care, for now anyways. He only has her and he only has now. When the Man clears his throat he doesn't turn or pause in his action, he merely closes his eyes once more and finds his peace.

"They're waiting for you Koz." The King doesn't seem to notice the words when his eyes reopen and look towards the darkness ahead.

"**It's a beautiful night, don't you think M?"** The boy who grew up without a nightmare sighs with arms tucked behind him.

"You have responsibilities to attend to Old Friend…" The shadow bowed and gave her one last nuzzle, afraid any other affection would harm her in some way before he stood; even tempered and neutral in his numbness.

"**I know, just prolonging the inevitable."** Their eyes met as the shade continued.

"**I never did know if I was supposed to wake her up as I left or let her sleep. Which one do you think would be worse, waking her to say goodbye or leaving her without saying it?"** The other doesn't answer the question and instead states:

"I'll stay with her while you're gone and keep her company when she wakes." The simplicity is a comfort and a small joy as he silently nods to it. They both know that the sleeping girl knows how to take care of herself after all these years of bided solitude, no one took care of her constantly except for MiM, who checked up on her every now and then yet always watched for her safety. She's free but her father still likes to play make believe that he's still needed even though the sad truth is beginning to become obvious, even to him. He leaves the Man then and murmurs to himself on borrowed time:

"_**Goodnight my paradise lost."**_


End file.
